Eagerly Awaiting
by Oldach's Dream
Summary: Just a goofy little oneshot featuring House and Wilson with appearances by the ducklings. HW Friendship only.


By: Oldach's Dream

Summary: Just a goofy little oneshot featuring House and Wilson with appearances by the ducklings. H/W Friendship only.

Disclaimer: If they were mine, do you seriously think we'd have to wait until September for new episodes to start?

o0oo0o

Eagerly Awaiting

"So, who died?" James Wilson sent a sidelong glance to his best friend, hoping the casual manner in which he phrased the question would lead to a prompt and honest response.

House was not that easy to fool.

The Diagnostician didn't even glance away from the TV mounted on the wall of the hospital cafeteria. "Nope." He shook his head. "I'm not telling."

"C'mon…" Wilson wasn't begging, just…actually; begging was a pretty accurate description.

"No." House was smiling, but Wilson thought that might have been in response to something on _General Hospital_, _Days of Our Lives_, or whatever inane soap opera currently held the vast majority of his attention.

"Just a hint?" He tried to bargain, because this was seriously going to bug him.

"More than one person." House gave in. "And one person who wasn't a person."

Wilson screwed up his features to make an exasperated face. "That's not a hint."

"You know, there are other ways to find out." House glanced away from the television at last, but only spared his friend a quick look before taking another bite of his Rueben. "I bet Cuddy knows."

"I'm not gonna ask Cuddy." Wilson balked, sounding outraged.

"You're asking me." House pointed out.

"Because I know you wanna tell me." The younger man countered.

"Find out for yourself." He tossed back.

"I, unlike some, less professional doctors in this hospital," he gestured vaguely to House, who simply smirked rather proudly at him. "Actually have paperwork to do and patients to treat."

"Then you'll have to suffer." House grinned an evil grin before reaching across the table and snatching Wilson's bag of potato chips away from him.

"You're mean." Wilson was rewarded with a 'shh' sound as House's soap came back from its commercial break.

But that was okay, Wilson wasn't even close to done trying.

o0oo0o

"Seriously?" The Oncologist barked, throwing up his hands in distress.

Chase smiled at him sympathetically. "Yeah, sorry."

"But, c'mon…" he took a step closer to the glass conference table where the Intensivist sat. "House couldn't actually fire you for-"

"House fired one of his first fellowship employees for mispronouncing 'nuclear'." Chase cut in.

"Yeah," Wilson's tone was bordering on desperate, and he knew what employee Chase was referring to. "But that guy was an idiot. _I _would have fired him."

"Sorry, Wilson." Foreman, who'd been sitting back, listening to their argument with amusement, added now. "But I don't think you'll be getting anything out of him."

Chase glared at his colleague, but said nothing to dispute him. Wilson, on the other hand, just rounded his gaze hopefully to Foreman.

"Don't look at me." The black man started before he could phrase a question. "I don't know. And _I _don't care."

Wilson shut his mouth and glared at both of them.

"God," Foreman laughed, "You're as obsessive as House is."

o0oo0o

"Cameron," Wilson approached her last, waiting until the end of the day, when hopefully she'd be too tired to refuse him.

"Hey, Wilson." She greeted him casually enough, stuffing a file into her bag, her doctor's coat already shed.

"Hey," he said back, his own attire was as casual as hers. No coat, shirt sleeves rolled up in his typical fashion. He was ready to go home, but he wouldn't, not until he tried, as least.

"Look, Cameron, there's this thing I was wondering if you could tell me about…"

Cameron looked up again; her eyes were confused for a moment, before clearing. She smiled.

"I thought House was joking."

Again, he glared at one of his friend's employees.

"Sorry," she was still smiling as she pulled on her jacket. "I've been sworn not to tell you."

"But you do know?" He had to confirm.

"Yeah, I know."

It seemed everyone knew, except Wilson.

o0oo0o

It was nearing midnight when he stomped up to House's front door and knocked loudly.

"What do you want?" Was the shout he received in response.

Wilson took that as his cue to come in.

House was stretched out on his couch, legs up, beer in hand. He was looking far too smug for Wilson's liking.

"You win." He sighed dramatically, flopping down on the recliner by the sofa. "Are you happy? You win."

"Yeah," House was smirking. "I am kinda happy."

"This is all your fault, you know." He seethed, because he could never leave it at that. "My stupid, insane obsession with this started because of you."

"Actually," House made a contemplative face. "It was you."

"What?" Wilson barked. "How the hell do you figure that?"

"After the infarction." House explained simply. "You said watching all that TV was rotting my mind or something."

"Well, it was." Wilson snapped, and then remembered what exactly his friend was talking about.

"And then you-"

"Yeah, alright, I remember." He admitted angrily.

"So really, this stupid, insane obsession is just as much your fault as it is mine." House moved carefully, getting off the couch, setting his beer on the table; he reached for the cane and moved away.

"Where are you going?" Because surely the older man didn't think they were done discussing this.

"To retrieve the end of your misery." House called back, already halfway to the bedroom.

Wilson only had to wait another minute before his friend limped back.

House sat down on the couch again and handed him something.

The Oncologist took the offered item gratefully, but said only, "This is gonna take me all damn night."

"Yeah, I know." House smirked, and swallowed the rest of his beer before standing up again. "There's beer in the fridge, leftover pizza on the counter and a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom that I give you full permission to use as Kleenex."

"You think I'm gonna cry?" Wilson asked absently, hands already itching to explore what House had given him.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." And he smirked again. "I'm going to bed now."

Then House was gone and Wilson was free to stretch himself out on his best friend's couch, pulling a pillow into his lap.

Eagerly, with a smile on his face, James Wilson opened the seventh and final Harry Potter book to the first page. It would have been so much easier if House had just told him who ended up dying in this, the final installment of the book series – their guilty pleasure – which they'd both been reading since House's infarction six years ago.

Easier, he thought with a content sigh, but not nearly as fun.

FIN.

_A/N: I took a slight creative license with this, as the Harry Potter book didn't come out until July 21 and the season ended – thus, the ducklings flew away – before that. But I think we can all ignore that for the sake of good fun, right? Review please:)_


End file.
